


It's not easy (But I'll drop my knife for you)

by TropicalJuiceDrink (EdrickSnowHuh)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, I wanted them to be cute in Polis, It's not AU, Lexa is Alive, and I don't know how good my characterization is, and then I heard this song, but it's not canon, so maybe ooc like idk, so this happened, you tell me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6518638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdrickSnowHuh/pseuds/TropicalJuiceDrink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was listening to War Paint by FLETCHER and then this happened.<br/>Or<br/>The Flopdred is a pile of shit so I wrote something so Lexa and Clarke would get to dance at a festival together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's not easy (But I'll drop my knife for you)

**Author's Note:**

> AN - My idea of the movements that Suman and co. teach Clarke look like a very basic kind of Kathak dance that I found on youtube (The specific video is called 'Tarana - Kathak Dance' and is uploaded by geetmalatv). It comes from India, hence I chose the name Suman for the character. I wanted to get across the idea that in Polis there is a huge diversity of ethnicities and cultures. The song that I mention as Lexa's favourite was the inspiration for this whole fic, and the name too. It's called 'War Paint', and it's by FLETCHER. Maybe give it a listen before/during reading this fic. Or don't, I won't tell you how to run your life.  
> I'm Greek Myth trash so that's why Athena.  
> Also sorry about any formatting issues, I wrote this in five hours on Writer's block and copied it straight over.  
> Hope you enjoy the fic - I'd love some feedback if you have the time to drop a comment!

Clarke woke to the sound of drums rolling over Polis.  
She bolted upright in bed, her pulse rocketing upwards, scared for a long moment that they were battle drums. Polis had only known peace for near on six months, which was lost in the blink of an eye compared to the years of warring factions they had endured before Heda Leksa's coalition had finally prevailed.   
She felt the light touch of fingertips skate across her spine, the contact helped to calm her but there was tension still evident in her shoulders.

"Clarke, are you okay?"

"What's with all the noise?" 

The blonde felt the sheets move as she fought to calm her breathing properly. The fingertips withdrew from her back and instead, strong palms settled on the base of her neck and began to lightly massage the tight muscles.

"It is just the beginning of the city festival, ai hodnes. We celebrate each year in honour of Athena. She is our people's goddess of war and wisdom."

Clarke hummed lightly, and looked over her shoulder at Lexa. 

"I've never heard drums in Polis in peacetime, so I thought-"

The brunette cut her off with a kiss, pushing their foreheads together gently. Both women kept their eyes closed, content to have an intimate moment to the sound of the city awakening before Lexa would have to become the Commander, and Clarke, Wanheda.

"I know, hodnes. I know. The music of Polis is beautiful though, almost as beautiful as your smile." 

Lexa grinned, breaking their solemn moment, and Clarke batted her shoulder playfully.

"You're such a smooth talker when you want to be, huh?" She laughed, pushing Lexa onto her back so that she could turn to lie opposite her. 

"As for this festival, do you have duties to perform, or are you free to show me around?"

Lexa resettled herself on the bed, propping herself up on one elbow and considering her answer.

"Well, there is a ritual I must complete that will take the better part of the morning. My people believe that in worshiping her, I will be graced with her wisdom for the coming year. It is an ancient custom that began with the first commander. Her name was Lara."

The blonde took her love's free hand in her own and began to play with her fingers, pushing against the calloused skin with the pads of her own fingertips.

"And when will you have to leave for that?"

Clarke asked, looking up with a mischievous glint in her eye. The brunette caught her impish smile in a sweet, chaste kiss before replying.

"My advisers will not be expecting me until the twelfth round of drumming."

"And which round are they on now?"

"I'd say the second, if I had to guess." 

"We have some time on our hands then, Commander." 

The blonde grinned, before tilting her head and connecting their lips.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa hadn't ended up leaving the bed until the thirteenth cycle, but Clarke couldn't seem to recall her minding too much. The sky girl had bathed, had her hair braided by the Commander's maidens under what apparently were Lexa's orders, and been given a loose, white shirt and trousers to wear.  
When she had asked, in broken trigedasleng but trigedasleng none the less, why her own clothes were unsuitable, the maidens had smiled kindly and told her that the whole city wore more traditional dress during festival days. 

Before leaving the tower, Clarke stood in front of the large mirror in the bathroom. The maidens had done an exceptional job. Her hair was pulled back in intricate braids away from her face, and the white clothing made her look almost ethereal. 

There was a guard left for her at the door, and she greeted her warmly. Nadea had stood sentinel at Clarke's door for the short time that she hadn't been with Lexa, and continued to protect her in her capacity as Ambassador to the Skai Kru. 

True to the Commander's word, the music of Polis was wonderful, but it may as well have not existed, because Clarke had been entranced by the colours of the celebration since she stepped foot out of the tower. 

Polis, usually covered in swathes of grey and brown, had transformed into a sea of red, blue, purple, and gold hues. Clarke stood at the base of the tower for what felt like hours, observing street vendors selling food and drinks, seeing children run along the streets singing songs she couldn't understand, watching women dressed in beautiful clothing dance and laugh together.

It seemed as if, over night, the capital of the thirteen clans had transfigured itself into a hive of light and laughter.   
The drumming and singing soared once again over the streets, and the blonde noticed that the people of the city all seemed to be making their way in the same direction in response, moving towards the central square.

Seeing as Lexa would still be tending to her duties and she had her guard with her, Clarke saw no reason not to follow them.   
The blonde walked among the inhabitants of the city, grateful for the anonymity the sheer volume of people provided her with. A small boy gave her a ring of little, pink flowers with a smile, and tugged on her sleeve. Clarke crouched to be at eye level with him, and he pointed to her head. 

"You wear it!" He grinned in accented English, pointing and gesturing until the flowers were firmly on her head. As soon as Clarke straightened up, he let go of her sleeve and ran away happily. 

"He likes you." Came Nadea's voice over her shoulder, the warrior having kept close to her charge in the bustling streets. She smiled brightly at the Ambassador, and quickly a small girl was bounding over to her with flowers of her own. 

They were not walking for long before the square was in sight. People dressed in all sorts of colours milled about, and the music was loudest here as the musicians were set up on a wide, raised dais. Clarke stopped at the side of the square to trade for a vibrant light blue sash, which she draped over her shoulder and diagonally across her chest. She was getting swept up in the atmosphere of the festival and the music, when a group of women began to dance to the lively beat.   
Their movements enthralled the young blonde, the women twirled and bowed and swept their feet across the floor in perfectly timed patterns, sometimes looking as if they'd collide but their impeccable timing meant they never did.

One older woman saw her watching, and seemed to recognise her immediately. She broke away from the dancing group and moved over to Clarke. She bowed slightly, giving a greeting.

"Ai laik Suman, kom Sankru. Would you like to dance with us?"

Clarke found herself momentarily speechless, and Suman held out her hand towards her and beckoned. 

"I don't think I'd know where to start-"

"Nonsense, yongon. We will teach you. Come."

The blonde took the old woman's hand, and found herself quickly swept up into the group she had previously watched with the women's whirling fabric now all around her. She couldn't help the smile that stretched her cheeks, and the light laughter that bubbled up from her throat. Suman gathered a few women from the group and introduced them as Alina, from the Floukru, Karis, of the Sankru, and Tris, of the Trikru.

The women carefully showed Clarke how to do some of the more basic movements with her feet, before teaching her how to twirl her wrists in time with the steps. The song being played by the musicians had changed twice while she was learning, but by the time they played the third the blonde could keep pace with the young dancers that had shown her what to do, and Clarke spent some time dancing along with the women, allowing herself to feel free and to laugh and smile with them. They taught the blonde a small selection of dances, including two partnered ones.  
After so long waging war, she admitted to herself that it felt damn good to act her age for once. 

To Clarke's surprise, the singing and chanting grew steadily more like the kind of pop music she'd listened to on the Ark before she'd been imprisoned. There were several singers belting songs in both trigedasleng and English, and then some more in languages she'd never heard spoken before. 

The blonde turned to her guard, who'd been dancing closely to her in an effort to both have some fun and take care of her charge. 

"Nadea, why do some of the songs sound so..modern? Like the stuff we had in space?"

She asked her, using the conversation as an excuse to catch her breath and stand still for a moment.

"There were many documents with music written on them in the library that are passed down through the generations. Our people kept the ability to read this music. Each clan generally has a favourite, the Sankru favour Indeeyan music for example."

Clarke nods slowly, taking in the information. She opens her mouth to ask another question, but before she can say a word the music cuts off entirely and a large group of people file onto the dais. She recognises some of them as Lexa's advisers, and she can't stop the smile that graces her lips at the thought of Lexa being done with her duties and hers for the rest of the day. 

The crowd's attention is focused solely on the dais, and a gruff man that Clarke recognises as Titus holds up his hands.   
There is silence instantly. 

"Heda Leksa kom Trikru!" His voice booms, and cheers erupt all over the square as the woman herself steps forward.  
Now, Clarke is used to the adoration Lexa receives from her subjects (Clarke does quite a bit of adoring herself), but to see it and to be part of it are two completely different experiences.   
Lexa's people love her. Anywhere the blonde looks, there is hope and faith in their eyes as they chant their Commander's name. This is the woman that brought their children home from war, that provides food during the winter, safety for their families. 

Lexa herself looks at the assembled people with a pleased smile, and raises a single hand in request for quiet.

"Ai kru, the Goddess looks upon this year favourably!"

She waits for the cheering to die down before continuing. While she speaks, Clarke takes the opportunity to look at what she's wearing.  
The Commander has ditched her warpaint in favour of a clean, fresh face. Her heavy coat and pauldron are gone, replaced by a loose, flowing white shirt not unlike Clarke's, tucked into black harem pants. Her belt is a strip of fabric the same shade of red as her sweeping train when she wears her Commander's get-up, tied round her waist like a cummerbund. She looks young. She looks...free.  
The blonde tunes back in to what she's actually saying as she wraps it up.

"Enjoy the festivities. We are in a time of peace. May it last."

Lexa takes her place on her throne, and with a wave of her hand the music resumes. It's a lot more modern this time, so modern that Clarke actually finds it familiar. 

Unbeknownst to Clarke, Suman is watching her closely and smiling. 

"You love her?"

The blonde jumps, not having seen the old woman approach. Even if the answer hadn't been forthcoming, the way that Clarke looks at Lexa says everything. 

"I do."

"Then dance with her in mind." The old woman says, with the kind of wry smile that hides experience and wisdom. "Show her."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa slouches more than sits on her throne, and she can feel the way Titus is looking at her in disapproval but she doesn't care.  
Her eyes are scanning the crowd for Clarke, her guards having informed her that that's where she could be found. 

The search is fruitless for a few minutes, until the people part in a circle around a group of dancers, and what she sees takes Lexa's breath away.

Clarke is right among the dancers, breathing easily, and laughing as she dances. Her body is as mesmerizing as her smile, and aside from private moments spent on Lexa's balcony, the brunette has never seen her lover so completely open to the world around her.  
To the Commander's surprise, Clarke seems to be keeping up with the women dancing almost effortlessly. She can't work out why she would know this dance until she sees Suman twirling away in the group, the very same woman that had taught her to dance as a young girl. 

Lexa is able to watch the blonde dance among their people for a few more moments, before the woman herself catches the brunette staring. She beckons to the Commander, and Lexa is powerless to resist the woman she loves.  
The moment she stands to join Clarke, her favourite song begins to play. A small red-headed girl steps up to sing, and Lexa inclines her head with a smile as a mark of thanks, which the girl returns with a slightly deeper bow. 

The Commander weaves her way between people that are dancing in groups, her eyes locked with Clarke's for as long as possible. She reaches out to her just as the singing starts, and pulls her in close. 

"May I have this dance, my love?" Lexa asks, grinning as she husks out the words. 

"Why of course, ai hodnes." Clarke replies, smiling, and as the chorus begins Lexa takes her hand in her own. 

She bows deeply to Clarke in front of the whole of Polis, and with one hand tucked against her lower back she circles the blonde.

Perfectly in time with the beat, Lexa brings Clarke into the closed hold position, close enough to sneak a quick kiss which can go no further because of the smiles on their faces. 

They dance until their feet get sore, and hold each other close long after that. 

They are in love, and at peace.

All is well.


End file.
